


Dark Angel

by vulcanly



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-09 20:38:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulcanly/pseuds/vulcanly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is evident that Hannibal is a man who holds himself above others, but what if he isn't a man at all; and why can only Will Graham see his wings?<br/>Is it another hallucination brought back from those dark places??</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wings?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I'm new to AO3 but I have been posting on FF.Net before etc, and will upload those works here as well.  
>  I wanted to get this story out as quick as possible before someone else got the idea and wrote it better than myself, so apologies for the short first chapter but I wanted ground work!  
>  \- Vulcanly

Will Graham stared on in disbelief, how had he not seen them when Hannibal had intruded his personal head space in Crawford's office. The first time he'd ever seen the man, within seconds he'd already observed too much and was floating around within Will's mind. 

"I can't turn it off anymore than you can." That was already more than many had seen of William Graham. They must think that he was deaf and oblivious to their whispers. Colleagues of the F.B.I, students within his lectures, all regarding his thought processes and antisocial behaviour. 

At least Doctor Lecter seemed to understand, that was just it. He couldn't just it off, he was able to see everything and it kept him awake at night and whatever he tried to do it wouldn't go away.

Wherever he went, especially the dark places, he always brought something back; and with complete sound reason he assumed that was what he was seeing around Hannibal. It sometimes happened when he was awake, and no matter how much he blinked and strained his eyes, glasses smudged with fingerprints, jaw clenched.

As it was, Hannibal was stood before Jack Crawfood. The F.B.I Head of Behavourial science seemed to take his opinion extremely seriously and actually obey him to a measure. Dr.Lecter was stood with his hands clasped behind his back, a small smile playing around his lips as he seemed to bantering with Crawford. Though the one thing that Will could not understand and would never ever mention.

Is why none of the other people in the room could see the huge, black austere wings protruding from the man's shoulder blades and tucked delicatedly against himself.

Sometimes he would stretch them out, and their span would engulf most of the entire room, though no one else could see anything other than a slight roll of his shoulders, stretching after being hunched over a desk for a long period of time. 

Every time they moved, whether it be the slight rustle of an invisible breeze ruffling the silky dark feathers, a little shudder of the owner's spine or a quick stretch of the wings; Will was completely in awe. The fact that no one else could see them did not bother him in the slightest, he often saw things that no one eles could ever hope to, and while it was often the cause of ridicule; this instance he was more than happy to keep to himself.

This was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever brought back from those Dark places, he thought as the owner of said beautiful wings turned to him slowly and deliberately as if sensing his thoughts as they locked eyes.


	2. Hallucination?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad you guys are enjoying! It's 4am so feel free to point out any mistakes that I can correct, and I plan on hopefully squeezing out another chapter later!

Whether it be in therapy or just within the confines of Hannibal's office as friends or collagues, out in the field with Jack and Beverly. In any capacity Will always felt with painful awareness how much he was starting to trust Hannibal.

It was a strange sensation that bloomed in his chest, something he was more than a little unaccustomed too, and unlike all of the feelings he could so easily take into himself and emulate from other people, he didn't quite know what to do with this one.

It sat, like a weight though not uncomfortably so. It was somewhat pleasant, grounding.  
Somehow, unlike he had expected, this emotion had continued to strengthen rather than diminish upon seeing the doctor's wings. Unlike the swimming visions of Garrett Jacob Hobbs, the enormous feathered stag that seemed to cling to him, the darkness of those sleek wings, tucked against the man's back, brought with them an odd serene sense of security rather than elevating his pulse and starring in his nightmares.

He was yet to broach the subject with Hannibal. During their "therapy" sessions, Will somehow always ended up telling Hannibal the truth. That bond of trust was something that at first he was completely unaware of and had never imagined would blossom. Yet, he had told him about seeing Hobbs, feeling paternal, feeling guilty... everything. Told him about the nightmares, about some of the things he'd brought back in the past before he returned to building boat motors, but how the hell would he tell the doctor about this?

The man in question was stood before him, looking down with a thoughtful expression, as though he were somehow trying to decipher Will's thoughts, before sitting down in front of him.

Finally, Will understood why he sat so far forward in his seat. While it was clearly that he was and not just appearing to be listening intently, it also left room for his wings. As they brushed the old fashioned, high-backed chair softly. They looked ever so slightly ruffled but extremely soft, Will thought dreamily, not even realizing that he was staring at them.

Hannibal sensed that Will had noticed; he'd let his cloak down a little over a week ago, though knew from talk of the others that it took a while to actually vanish. The man before him was staring intently at his wings, and while he would not look him in eyes Hannibal could sense that he was dying to ask. Is this a nightmare? Another vision? Without even meaning to Hannibal shuffled his wings slightly, much like a shiver.

Will's eyes snapped up to meet Hannibal's own dark ones, and felt his own jaw drop ever so slightly at the warmth there and the smirk on the other man's face.


	3. Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, I can't thank you enough for the kudos and comments already, I'm new to this site and I'm getting to grips with how everything works, so thanks for being patient.  
> Still not sure how I feel about this chapter, yet I feel as if there needs to be some space before Will finally has the courage to ask about Hannibal's Wings, the explanation and where it will take them!

Hannibal had always known that there would be the one, every angel had one. One mortal to whom they were inexplicably drawn, it was as if they called to the angels without even meaning to. He had started to doubt, when he was younger; in both nature and science there are always anomalies and it would be very typical of his style that he should turn out to be one. An angel without his partner.

The psychiatrist had known the moment that he'd set eyes on Will; he'd had every right to be somewhat suspicious when the F.B.I's head of behavioural science stepped into his office and it was as if he were being interrogated. Before hearing Alana Bloom's name he'd started to relax, even more so when he realized that he'd be inside the F.B.I and on their side. 

Yet upon being seated in the office with Jack Crawford and meeting Will Graham for the first time, he'd instantly known. The man was so unassuming in the way he sat, eyes always downcast and never meeting anyone elses, for the sake of appearances the medical part of his brain had pointed out all of these idiosyncracies and they're psychological counterparts, but all the he could see around the younger man was a reddish glow. Very hard to notice, if not for his keen senses he could have missed it ten times over. 

It grew, in size and in brightness the more he got to know Will, dear, strong Will. Who despite his instincts and track record came to trust Hannibal very much and allow him to be a support strut, one of which the doctor found he was sorely in need of. 

Hannibal let out a very undignified grumble, alone his office, at the memory of Will's eyes meeting his own just after he'd caught the younger man staring at his wings nought but a day ago. He had been formulating a subtle way to coax the question of him... Will always worked better when Hannibal did not directly ask, or provide an answer. However they were interrupted by a sudden knock at the door, Crawford needed them both immediately and gave his sincerest apologies at distrupting their session.

He hadn't flown in such a long time, it was a wonder Will could even see his wings, it felt as if they were barely there sometimes; and when they did, they were sore and weighty.  
~~~~~  
Will Graham awoke suddenly, eyes fluttering as he blinked the residual images of his latest dream away with a woosh of air into his lungs, gasping. Rolling over to see the alarm clock, stomach dropping in disappointment as it was only 03:56 am. Breathing heavily his eyes studied his room, gaze dragging slowly over furniture and clothes until they met the doorway.

Getting out of bed and down to the kitchen, he couldn't help but think on the only moment of his dream that rang clearly throughout his mind.

Dr.Lecter was there, he had never featured in his dreams before, despite how much they interacted during the day. The man was stood as tall and proud as ever, never improper; full suit and tie in place, hair coiffed perfectly to one side and a guarded expression. His wings were there, as they were every day for Will now, tucked against his back, the tops reaching a few feet above the man, the black silken feathers perfectly smoothed down. He watched as Hannibal turned around upon hearing the sound of footsteps, well, hoof-steps. As the large feathered Stag appeared behind him, brushing against the own feathers of his wings, a smirk appearing on the older man's features. Taunting him, as if there were some sort of obvious secret that he was missing out on, the man's eyes were ablaze; the dark brown clouded maroon.

Will quickly downed the glass of water before slamming it down and clutching at the sink, he could feel a headache coming on as he remembered the brass statue of a Stag in Hannibal's office and shuddered.

With a deep sigh that rattled against his chest almost painfully, he poured a few fingers of whiskey and sat with his head back, hand ruffling Winston's ears as the large dog came and rested its head upon his knee.

Tomorrow would be a long day, but he could not carry on unanswered. He would talk to Hannibal.


	4. The Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to warn everyone, I have been drinking some Jack Daniels before writing this, so feel free to correct anything you feel needs doing, I'm just happy to get another chapter out there.
> 
> I finished University this week,  
> I've been choc-a-bloc with exams and studying over the past fortnight and this has taken a backseat,  
> but I'll be back to doing this regularly now!!

Will Graham sat in Hannibal's office, hands clutching at the coarse fabric of his trousers just above the knee, digging in; attempting to build up some courage and calm the rolling ocean of nerves that was brewing in his stomach. 

Hannibal had set both glasses of wine on the table in front of them, something pink was all Will could tell, and revelled in the anxious waves he could feel emanating from the man seated next to him. That in itself was a rare occurrance, Hannibal was normally the picture of serenity while Will would stand and pace in front of him.

The pull to the younger man was stronger now, he was a siren singing to him, luring him toward the rocks. Sometimes it rang so loud in the psychiatrist's ears that he almost needed to leave the room.

"Will, calm your mind." It was time, Hannibal thought.

With a nod, Will scooted ever so slightly closer to Hannibal on the blue baroque couch, their knees brushed each other's and rather than making him feel nauseous, it bolstered Will's nerves.

"Hannibal, I have something I've been seeing, it's nothing like when I saw Hobbs, it's all the time. I've been meaning to bring it up, but I don't know if it's just something I'm seeing or-" with a shake of the head Will swallowed and pushed himself. "Hannibal, I.. I keep seeing you, with wings. Big, black angels wings." 

The older man eyed Will's face reservedly, watching as he rubbed a hand across the bridge of his nose and pressed his fingertips into the corners of his closed eyes, as if willing away a headache. At this, Hannibal stood up and realized that it was time, he could not tell Will, only show him.

Standing in the centre of the room, before the large antique desk and facing Will directly, Hannibal let his wings unfurl and stretch outwards, as they dwarfed everything into insignificance. Watching on with a small inward smile as Will's mouth was open and his eyes were glued.

"Hannibal..." 

The psychiatrist nodded, giving both of his wings one small beat, the gust created ruffling Graham's hair as he stared on in awe.

"I had better be asleep right now... I can't deal with this, what are you??"

With a confident and steady voice, laced as always by his smooth accent Hannibal began to explain.

"There are many types of angels Will. Those who diligently guard the so-called pearly gates, those who reside in hell and watch over the portal to the mortal world, and there are those of us, both light and dark, who choose to leave. To walk amongst men and women, our wings cloaked into invisbility. No matter an angels allegiance and where they are, every angel is bound to a mortal. A human who's call we cannot ignore, you're my human Will." 

Trying slowly to process that information Will slowly began to stand, he was always ever so slightly shorter than Hannibal but with these wings he felt so small, and yet somehow safe.

"So you're what, my guardian angel?" He mocked somewhat sarcastically, barely able to believe something so banal coming from a man like Hannibal.

"Not at all my dear Will, I'm here to stay by your side. I must observe you, and if I can guide your decisions, know that I shall not let you down, whatever capacity you choose to think of me. Psychiatrist, colleague, friend, even a guardian angel if you would like."

Shaking his head, Will decided that this was either very very true or he was sleeping and would wake up feeling ever more confused in the morning.

"May I touch your wings, Hannibal?" With a confirming nod from the older man, Will stepped forward and slowly reached out a trembling hand, brushing the backs of his fingers against the feathers, they were softer than he could have ever imagined. They were sleek and silk like, and he could feel the muscle and power beneath. Walking around the older man in a circle and surveying his wingspan, before Hannibal tucked them against his shoulders in what Will could only guess was a relaxed position for them.

"I realize this is a lot for you to absorb Will, I shall bring you breakfast tomorrow and explain further. I will tell you why I am here, what this means for the two of us and if you like what I did before I came here. I could even take you to fly." Here Hannibal used a well placed smirk and the expression of slight shock on Will's face as he tried to absorb everything, assuming that he was dreaming and sleepwalking. Hannibal sent Will home, it was getting late, and finished his glass of wine before retiring himself. Tomorrow morning should be eventful, he thought.


End file.
